Titel: Covet 6Author: VestaRating: PG-13Pairing: Norrington/TurnerWarnings: NoneDisclaimers: I don't own them, I don't own anything. And I never, ever make any moneyFeedback: Yes please,if you would be so kindSummary: It's the day after the night before

This specific piece of fiction is dedicated to Madness Mike for reading even when he doesn't want to.

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"Then must you speakOf one that lov'd not wisely, but too well"William Shakespeare

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Carefully. That was the word of the day, and would be for the coming ones as well if Commodore Norrington should judge from the sore stretching ache in his behind. Turner had been right, he didn't bleed, but it hurt and made James wince and sigh. That seemed to be all he had been doing so far this day. He winced when he dressed for the day and when he sat down for breakfast in spite of trying to move carefully. He winced when Elisabeth threw a breakfast plate at him and he ducked, not carefully. She had gotten into her mind that he had spent the previous evening with a whore. James almost, but only almost since he didn't want to die at his wife's hands, laughed at the accusation. No whore could ever tempt him, not like Turner had done. Still did.

The breakfast ended badly. Elisabeth stormed out, stormed in again for another quick shout and tossing of another plate before she retired to her rooms. James sighed, the old saying was true; hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He was glad though that she didn't know why she had been scorned. He didn't even dare to imagine what would happen if she knew how he had spent the previous evening and night.

James had surprisingly enough stayed hard even if he hadn't spilled while Turner was doing it with him. He had still been hard when he stumbled into his room and ignored to wash up before going to bed, sticky, dirty and still smelling of Turner. James felt his cheeks flush when he thought about how he very carefully had fingered his swollen, aching opening and felt the last drops of Turner's seed seep from him. A quick tug on his cock and the memory of how Turner had groaned when he spilled, gave him release. There was no satisfaction in it, only shame.

James finished his breakfast in peace and quiet, silently watching the maid scurry about picking up the shards of broken porcelain. He tried to focus his thoughts on more urgent matters, but the memories from the night kept coming back. Turner must have cast a spell on him. How could James otherwise still be so enthralled by a man who had caused him such pain and humiliation? Why wasn't he able to appreciate his wife anymore? Until Turner, James had never harboured any desire for another man yet now he was unable to think about anything else.

He had been so happy when Elisabeth gave him her agreement to marriage. James saw a future with children, heirs to his name and the tender care his loving wife would bestow upon him. Nothing of that had come true. He was stuck with a woman whose mild, gentle voice had gotten the tone of a screeching harpy. His lusts were focused on a man who he harboured a mutual dislike for. James sighed again. This fate was not acceptable for a man of the fleet. He deserved better. And as a man of the fleet he could master his own future. It was time to talk to Turner and take his life back. The notion that Turner had cast a spell on him was idiotic. He was not superstitious like an old midwife, he had more sense than that. Tonight, when he was done at the garrison, he would pay Mr. Turner another visit and clear the mess up.

It had been long day. But finally he managed to finish up the work and leave the garrison. He walked slowly towards Turner's house. A myriad of excuses presented themselves to him on the way but he battled them down. A man of the fleet did not run when things got rough. He stood his ground to his last breath.

Turner didn't answer the knock on his door and James almost tucked tail and ran but stopped himself. He had to do this, to try to get any kind of clarity in what was going on and what kind of hold Turner had on him. He knocked again and to his surprise the door moved, another push made it swing open. Very, very carefully James stepped inside. The room was empty and the small house was silent. It didn't look like something was wrong though, but the silence was eerie. To James's knowledge, Turner wasn't the kind who went out at night, and he did certainly not leave his door unlocked like this. You did not do that in Port Royal if you wanted to keep your life and your possessions.

A noise from the bedchamber told him that someone was in the house anyway. James peered through the half open door and to his utter astonishment he saw Turner in there, sitting on the floor, gripping a bottle so tightly his knuckles were white. When Turner lifted his head and tried to focus on James he realised that the man was intoxicated. Piss-assed drunk if James should be honest. A bruise coloured his right cheek and he looked just as ruffled as the average sailor after a night out. But it hadn't even been night yet. It was barely evening and Turner looked like he had been drinking for days. And James certainly knew what Will had been up to the previous evening.

"Commodore, you're back." Turner chuckled and tried to get up. He failed and fell sideways on the floor. James stood staring, he had never in his wildest dreams imagined Turner like this. He was too composed, too strict, too…everything to lose his composure in such an undignified manner.

Instead of trying to get up again, Turner lay where he had fallen and rolled over on his back.A sly smile spread across his face and a bit slurring he stated "If you want sommat, commodore, you have to work for it." He rubbed a hand over his groin. "I think it can be hard though. Must have overdone the rum."

James first thought was to leave, but he couldn't really leave Turner on the floor with the house unlocked. A man of the fleet always knew how to solve different situations, therefore James took a grip of himself, walked over to Turner and hauled him to his feet. "Come now, Mr Turner, you can't lie about on the floor like this, you will catch your death."

Will hung like a rag doll in James's arms and didn't protest when he was tipped down on the bed. James contemplated undressing him but considered it too much of a trouble to get the unmoving body unclothed. Tempting as it was, he decided against it.

Instead he yanked Turner's shoes off and pulled the blanket over him. This was the strangest situation. He had come here to clear things out, not to take care of a drunken Will. But he was rather pliant like this. No hard stares, no hard words. It seemed like Will had passed out, his mouth was half open and his eyes closed. This was an opportunity he couldn't resist though, it would most likely never present itself again. James sat down on the bed beside Turner and hesitantly stroked the brown curls fanned over the pillow. No reaction made James bolder. He trailed a single finger along Will's jaw and over full lips. It must have tickled, Will made a small noise and pursed his lips. James went back to stroking the soft hair and Turner hummed, moving a little to give better access to his head it seemed. James leaned closer, sitting like this with Will at his mercy, so to speak, he could easily forget why he was here, forget what had taken place on their earlier encounters.

Will looked so young in his sleep. The hard lines around his mouth were gone and suddenly James remembered the young boy they had fished out of the water all those years ago. He remembered the confusion in the same brown eyes that these days stared so blankly at him. It was hard to recognise that boy in the man in front of him, but it gave him a hint of understanding why Will had become what he was now. It must have been hard to grow up in the smithy, orphaned, lonely. And Will was still lonely, James realised. He had no one to turn to. His own fault, James thought, if he hadn't done what he did with the filthy pirate Elisabeth most likely would have married Will in instead of James.

Will stirred and looked up at him. "'s nice," he mumbled when James continued to stroke his hair. "He left," he said. "He came here and then he left."

"What? Who left? What happened, Mr.Turner?" James didn't really know how to react. Will looked like he was about to cry, and while he could handle a weeping woman, a crying man, even if he was drunk, was nothing he felt capable of dealing with. He took the easy way and retreated to the role of the Commodore, all stern and efficient.

"Jack. Jack was here. He saw us." The drunken slur was gone. "He saw us together and he got mad." Will covered his bruised cheek with his hand. "He got really mad."

"He hit you?" The Commodore was all efficiency now. But he was answered only by a light snore. Turner had passed out again.

James sat unmoving on the bed. Sparrow. Sparrow had been here. Sparrow had seen him on his knees, his humiliation, his pain. Maybe even his tears. A hot thing uncoiled in James's chest. A scorching, burning snake of anger. Sparrow, the filthy little searat. Maybe he still remained in Port Royal. Commodore James Norrington would not take any chances this time. He stood and straightened his uniform. It would take him only a few minutes to get back to the garrison and alert the troops. This time it was certainly enough. He spent no more thoughts on Will, he could sleep it off alone. Norrington did not have the time to spend on him right now. He had to prepare for a hanging.

Very quick reply as I think I just heard thunder and have only read half, will read the rest tommorow :P

"James saw a future with children, heirs to his name and the tender care his loving wife would bestow upon him. Nothing of that had come true. He was stuck with a woman whose mild, gentle voice had gotten the tone of a screeching harpy. His lusts were focused on a man who he harboured a mutual dislike for. James sighed again. This fate was not acceptable for a man of the fleet. He deserved better. And as a man of the fleet he could master his own future."

I'm sorry to say that updates are random at the best. But I'm working on it none the less. I've never managed to see Will as someone totally ignorant, you don't survive for long if you are. And he's funnier to torment if he has at least some clues about life in general.Thanks very much for reading and telling me you liked it. Always appreciated.